


If You Wanted a Song Written About You

by etcetera_kit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:44:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etcetera_kit/pseuds/etcetera_kit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean’s got his angel back from Purgatory. Cas’ fan club in Heaven is delighted to have their hero back. All of this means everything should be great, right? Enter Naomi with a mysterious plot. Add in angels with bad timing. So what’s a hunter to do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Wanted a Song Written About You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [takadainmate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/takadainmate/gifts).



> Thanks to my wolf pack for alpha and beta reading, and thanks to my other buddy for getting excited about the fan fic opportunities! I hope you enjoy, takadainmate! The prompt was just too great.

**If You Wanted a Song Written About You  
(All You Had to Do Was Ask)**

“Do not lie to me. I know how much you, and all the other like you, dote on Castiel.”

Inias gave Naomi a level look. She had once been a great leader of a garrison, but had faded into obscurity with the rise of Zachariah. She’d appeared recently and had been calling angels into her office—notably, angels who had helped or been inspired by Castiel. She was powerful, but had never shown any inclination to grabbing power, even during the struggle between Castiel and Raphael. Inias could not get a sense for her motivation or end game, but she was not someone he wanted as an enemy.

He let out a long breath.

“Samandriel has been captured. He gave up the names of this generation of prophets. We believed that the demon Crowley would kill him, but has kept him alive for unknown reasons.”

Naomi folded her hands and leaned back slightly in her chair. “I assume that you and Joshua have a plan to rescue Samandriel.”

“Yes.” Inias paused, gathering his courage and trying to be as he felt Castiel would in a similar situation. “Joshua and I have our forces well in hand.”

“I hardly think so, not with Samandriel’s capture. Your forces did not notice his disappearance until he had already betrayed some of the secrets of Heaven.”

She did not look angry or vengeful, but Inias was wary of where this conversation was headed. He gritted his teeth. “Our forces are spread quite thin. And the new generation of fledglings are not mature enough to fight.”

Naomi stood and turned to glance at the constant clouds outside her office. “Many of our numbers were depleted before and during the Apocalypse.” She paused. “Not to mention the angels lost in the war between Castiel and Raphael. And the purge afterwards.” She turned towards him, gaze clear and penetrating. “Why do you and all your comrades love Castiel so much?”

“It is not easy to explain.”

“Try.”

There was no arguing with _that_ tone. Inias returned her gaze. “Castiel was always special. He saw humanity in ways that none of us ever could. There was a reason that the archangels chose him to lead the siege into Hell to raise Dean Winchester from perdition.”

“Esther believed that raising Dean Winchester was what set Castiel on the road that he currently travels.”

“Perhaps.”

“Do you know what he lets that human do to him?”

“Castiel loves Dean Winchester.”

“Love.” Naomi shook her head, eyes oddly sad. “What does an angel know of love?”

Inias did not reply. Castiel had taught them so much. He had never met Castiel until recently, and in that small time, realized one thing—Castiel would do anything for Dean Winchester, including taking on another’s madness. He’d died twice for the human. He’d made a deal with Crowley and tried to resurrect Sam Winchester, all to keep Dean in the normal life the hunter had wanted. And the carnal relationship that Naomi had referenced? That had not started until a few weeks ago, when he and Joshua and their forces rescued Castiel from Purgatory.

“Have you spoken to Castiel?” Inias finally asked.

“Yes. He is to remain with the Winchesters and be of use to them.”

“To what end?”

“Castiel is a dangerous angel. How he is still alive is beyond any comprehension.” She shook her head. “He can help the Winchesters find the other half of the tablet and close the gates of Hell forever. After that, he has lost all usefulness to us.”

“You would kill him? He could help bring balance to Heaven.”

“You are dismissed, Inias.”

Naomi snapped her fingers and Inias found himself in the Garden. Joshua was there, expression concerned. “Naomi?” he asked.

Inias nodded.

Joshua sighed. “I do not know what she wants.”

“She wants Castiel dead.”

“Then we need to pray.”

\--------------------

Dean stretched and reached towards the other side of the bed, pleased when he found warm and silky skin where he’d expected to find cold sheets. “You’re still here,” he murmured sleepily. 

“Yes.”

He was still so tired that he didn’t question the situation, just reached out and wrapped an arm around Cas’ waist, hauling him closer and crowding into his personal space. Not that Cas ever had a sense of personal space. He shifted so that they were both using the same pillow, huffing soft breaths into Cas’ neck. One of Cas’ hands began stroking gently through his hair, while the other traced idle patterns on his wrist. 

“You usually fuck off pretty quickly after we… fuck.”

Which was true. Dean liked to think his little brother was oblivious, but Sam caught on to the stolen kisses pretty quickly and made the executive decision for them to get separate rooms. Things escalated from there. Hell, if Dean was being honest with himself—which he usually wasn’t—then he’d admit that he’d had deeper feelings for Cas for a long time. And, yeah, Cas still being in the bed was unusual. They’d have mind-blowing, emotionally intense sex. Cas would give Dean a few minutes to catch his breath and then zap back into his clothes and disappear until morning.

“Yes,” Cas said again.

“Told you the afterglow was awesome.”

He felt, rather than saw, the ghost of a smile from Cas. Then they were both still and silent for a few moments.

Dean propped himself up on one elbow, so he could look down at Cas. His angel’s hands fell to the bed. Dean took a moment to run a hand through Cas’ hair, making him look completely and totally fucked out. “Not that I’m complaining,” he started, “But you’ve been around a lot lately.”

Cas just gave him a clear, level gaze. 

So this conversation was going nowhere.

“I mean, you’ve usually had things in Heaven or wherever,” he tried again. “Doesn’t some powers-that-be want to talk you? Purgatory. Behind enemy lines and stuff.”

Cas shrugged. Or, at least, Dean imagined the almost non-gesture to be Cas’ version of a shrug. “No one has summoned me,” he said simply.

“I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but isn’t that a little weird?”

“Yes.”

“And again, not that I’m complaining, but haven’t you tried to contact them?”

“They are rebuilding Heaven and do not have use for a broken angel.”

“Excuse me, broken?”

His angel did his little non-shrug again. Dean knew he could have reacted to that incredibly self-deprecating statement, but he knew how Cas felt. Hell, he’d spent all his time since getting back from Purgatory feeling alternately angry and guilty. And someone in Heaven obviously told Cas he was broken and he’d taken it to heart. Great. He’d just gotten over feeling guilty about supposedly leaving Cas behind in Purgatory and now the angel was going to be depressed. They could honestly be doing a whole hell of a lot worse.

“You’re not broken,” Dean muttered. “You’ve just been through an incredible amount of shit. I can relate.”

This time he saw the ghost of Cas’ smile. “I’m glad you’ve forgiven me.”

“For the souls? Purgatory?” Dean snorted. “Leviathans are back where they belong. We’re alive.”

“Yes.”

Dean leaned back on his pillow and pulled Cas against him. The angel was pliant and went willingly. Cas settled against him, head on his shoulder and one arm around his waist, a near mirror of their positions from a moment ago. Dean pressed a kiss to the top of Cas’ head. They were here and they were all right, but he couldn’t help be feel like the other shoe was about to drop.

\---------------

“And you’re sure that she said she wanted Castiel dead?”

“Not in so many words.”

“What exactly did she say?”

“Just that Castiel would no longer be useful.”

Inias stared at Joshua as the older angel fell silent and thoughtful. Between his over-extended duties guarding Heaven, rescuing Samandriel and watching over Castiel and Dean Winchester, he had hardly had time to decipher his cryptic meeting with Naomi and help Joshua figure out how they were going to keep Castiel safe.

Joshua shook his head. “You and I both know that Naomi is powerful, but she has never played power games like some of the others.” He sighed. “This is quite troubling.” He paused, before adding, “At least Samandriel’s rescue was successful.”

“Yes. While he did divulge information he should not have, we were able to identify weaknesses in our defenses and get valuable information about the demon Crowley’s hiding places on Earth.”

“Good.” Joshua sighed. “I remember when things felt simpler. Before Christ. Before the Apocalypse. When our world was so very black and white.”

Inias shook his head, gazing at the Garden around them. For most angels, the Garden was Eden, a perfect paradise of natural beauty. Something not seen on Earth since the very first humans, not since their Father took true perfection from the humans. Sometimes Inias wondered why their Father loved the humans so, with their multitude of flaws. But then he saw what Castiel did—beauty and perfection in the chaos and entropy that humans caused. The humans’ lives were short and messy, but they loved and hated fiercely and passionately—something angels never could do, even now with their relative liberation and the continued absence of their Father.

“Things were never black and white,” he murmured. “We just thought they were.”

“Very true.”

“I am afraid that Naomi’s plans may be too close to those of Zachariah or Raphael.”

“Our job is to guard Heaven and protect its souls,” Joshua reminded him.

“But we have chosen to aid the Prophet and the Winchester brothers.”

“We have.”

Inias sighed again. “Our numbers are too small. We cannot adequately protect Heaven and render the aid we see fit.”

And there were too few angels left to cast blame for the decimation of their kind. In many ways, those who were purged represented the old ways of thinking in Heaven and would have fought the changes that he and Joshua and their garrisons established. They would have called for Castiel’s blood—like Hester. But none of that mattered. They had to rebuild Heaven, raise the fledglings, train them and restore order, all while helping the Prophet and the Winchesters successfully close the gates to Hell and keep humanity safe from demons.

“We must have faith.”

Inias nodded, although he was not sure he believed in their Father’s will nearly as strongly as Joshua. But the older angel did have the advantage of hearing their Father’s words and being able to speak with him. And if Joshua trusted that the situation with Naomi would be resolved without bloodshed and with keeping Castiel safe and with Dean Winchester, then he supposed that having faith was a small thing.

Suddenly, the rose bushes a few yards from them rustled.

Inias’ blade was in his hand before he could think. Joshua held up a hand. “This is a protected place. No one but angels and souls escorted by angels can be here.”

Another angel emerged from the bushes, brushing rose petals from his clothes.

Joshua stared, while Inias felt his own jaw drop.

The other angel just grinned.

“Gabriel?”

\--------------------

The next morning, Dean stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom, taking just a second to register that Cas was still in bed. His mouth tasted like a dirty sock and his bladder was screaming at him. After a long and satisfying piss, he took care of the morning breath problem.

More alert, he glanced out the bathroom door as he squeezed toothpaste onto his toothbrush. Cas had zapped back into his clothes and was studying one of Bobby’s old “most haunted places in America” books that Sam had left lying around their room. Their hunt for the other half of the tablet was going nowhere fast, so Dean had found an easy ghost hunt in a small town just outside of Lake Charles, Louisiana. Hell, he figured if this ghost thing went well, they could make the three hour drive east and hit the French Quarter to unwind for two or three days. Naturally, they’d keep scouring the supernatural underworld for Crowley and the tablet.

“Hey Cas?” Dean asked.

The angel turned to him. “Yes, Dean?”

“Remember just before the Apocalypse, when you were practically human?”

Cas didn’t reply—just gave him a bitchface that very clearly said, ‘Of course I remember, assbutt. What of it?’

“Well, you had to shower and brush your teeth and… stuff.”

“I can maintain my vessel without outside assistance,” Cas replied almost primly.

“Well, yeah, I’m not saying you… smell… or something.” Shit, this conversation did not have the sexy-times overtones that he’d originally hoped for. Time for another tactic. “But you have to remember how great a long, hot shower felt?” 

“Do you want me to bathe with you, Dean?”

“You do more than just wash,” he muttered, ducking back into the bathroom and shoving his toothbrush in his mouth, quickly and vigorously brushing his teeth.

“You mean… sex?” Cas had moved to the bathroom door, but, thankfully, had not randomly appeared in the bathroom behind Dean, like he usually did. Never mind that Cas was fully dressed and Dean was buck-naked, but some part of his mind liked to think that Cas would enjoy the view. Which the angel probably did. In his own really weird way.

Dean used the long quiet moment to finish brushing his teeth and spit out the toothpaste. Cas took one tentative step into the bathroom. Dean threw his toothbrush on the counter and grabbed Cas by his belt, hauling him closer. “You’re wearing too much clothing for this,” he muttered before crashing their lips together in a messy, lazy, open-mouthed kiss. 

And Cas definitely did have a good idea for when to use his clothes zapping powers for evil and not good. In a split second, Dean had an armful of naked, very enthusiastic angel. So Cas mostly chose just not to get it, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t get excited about what he wanted. Mostly sex. And, apparently, to hang around Dean and try to help.

Dean could do worse. Hell, he’d _done_ a lot worse.

He paused long enough to deepen the kiss and drag Cas backwards towards the shower. Blindly groping with one hand, he managed to turn on the water and shower spray. He then grabbed a handful of Cas’ hair, pulling back the angel’s head and exposing a long column of throat. Dean shift, sucking on the skin where his neck and shoulder met. Cas moaned deep in this throat, hands moving against Dean’s sides, looking for purchase.

“Told you you’d like this,” Dean murmured against his skin.

“You never—Dean!”

He effectively cut off the protest by getting a leg between Cas’ thighs and giving the angel something to rut against. Yeah, all Dean’s blood was flowing south and in about a minute, Cas looked completely _wrecked_.

Taking a step back, he wrapped an arm around Cas’ waist and pulled the angel into the shower with him. He pulled the curtain closed and spun them, so Cas was up against the tiles.

And the shower curtain was abruptly pulled open.

What the—

Dean spun around.

“Inias?”

Cas’ voice. Not his.

And then they were both fully dressed and in the living room of the motel room. An angel that looked vaguely familiar was standing there, wearing a suit. 

“Hello Inias.”

Okay, so angel from the cabin when Cas was crazy. Check.

“Castiel. Are you well?”

“I’m fine.” Cas paused, narrowing his eyes. “Why are you here?”

“We have rescued Samandriel and are working on further reconnaissance regarding the other half of the tablet.”

“Thank you.”

“We will keep you posted.”

Inias disappeared. Dean stared at Cas, before asking, “Samandriel?”

Cas full-on rolled his eyes. “Alfie.”

“Oh. Your damn friend is a fucking cockblock.”

Cas gave him a quizzical look, head tilting slightly to the side.

“Oh, don’t give me that!” Dean shot back. “You know exactly what a cockblock is!”

\--------------------

A few hours later, Dean found himself waiting in the car. Sam had gone to talk to the coroner about the latest death concerning their ghost. And since Sam had a monopoly on the puppy eyes (and had been a fucking slacker for the last year or so), Dean was happy to leave that to him. Cas was sitting in the front seat of the Impala, looking pensive.

The awesome impromptu shower sex had never happened. After Inias flitted off to wherever, Sam had called, wanting to know if they were awake and wanting to compare notes over breakfast. They’d been combing local papers and archives for anything that might match their ghost’s M.O., but were drawing serious blanks. Sam wanted to talk to the coroner to see if anything in the autopsy reports would shed a little light.

“You okay?”

Cas didn’t even start, just turned his fucking pensive gaze on Dean. “I’m fine,” he replied shortly.

“So why is Inias giving you updates?” he tried again. “You said last night that no one was looking for you.”

“I thought so. Until Inias appeared this morning.”

“You think they’re going to call you back for something?”

“That, or he’s protecting me from something.”

“Like what? Ninjas?”

“I highly doubt it.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay then.”

So first Dean had been bored, now he was worried and bored—which was a really weird combination. Made him feel a little bit like he was on a rollercoaster, going slowly up that first hill before they started flying down the tracks.

“But it’s okay, right? You’re staying here?”

Christ, Dean had not meant to sound like a twelve-year-old girl with that statement, but that was exactly what happened. Did he trade in his man-card the minute he started sleeping with Cas? No. He was Dean Winchester and he was _awesome_.

“Yes. Dean. I am. I report to no one in Heaven, so I will remain where I want.”

“Good.” Dean reached out and gently grasped Cas’ knee, just to feel something warm and solid. Cas was here and not planning on going anywhere.

“Are _you_ all right?”

Dean blinked at Cas. “Me? I’m good.” He looked out the window at the ridiculously green lawn leading up to the Medical Examiner’s office. “I’d be better if we could finish what we started this morning.”

Somehow _that_ was all the invitation that Cas needed to crowd up into his personal space. And, hell, he wasn’t complaining, just threaded his fingers through Cas’ hair and pulled him in. The kiss was deep and fiery and had everything he had hoped that morning would have turned into. He just let Cas take over—Cas didn’t usually take the lead when things got physical, so Dean was happy to let him show a little dominance for once, instead of looking like a scared teenager. Cas pushed him back and would have climbed into his lap, had the steering wheel not been in the way.

God, somehow with Cas, he felt like a teenager again—at attention and ready to go the minute they started making out. (Sam would have claimed it was because he stopped drinking so much and had actually started running some mornings, like the freaking gigantor suggested in the first place, but Dean mostly chose to ignore his baby brother.)

Dean let out a low groan as Cas fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans. “Oh hell yes,” he muttered.

“Hello.”

“Whoa!”

Years from now, Dean would swear that he was very manly and kept his shit together when Alfie appeared in the back seat. He absolutely did _not_ scream like a girl.

Cas just looked up from where he’d been getting his hand down Dean’s jeans. He just stopped, but kept his hands where they were. How Cas could keep his shit together was beyond him?

“Hello Samandriel.” And now Cas sounded unaffected?

“I was sent to check in on you two.”

Dean looked over his shoulder. Alfie was still wearing the stupid hot dog stand clothes. Did angels have no sense of… wait, what the hell was going on here?

“We’re fine, Samandriel. Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Dean added. “Some other angel just checked in this morning. Now is not a good time!”

“Oh.” Alfie looked thoughtful. “You are engaging in sexual intercourse.”

“Yes!” Dean nearly yelled. 

Thankfully, Alfie just disappeared. He didn’t need someone to yell ‘get lost!’ Dean let out a long breath and ran a hand through his hair. “This is getting ridiculous.”

\--------------------

The second time that Inias found himself in Naomi’s office, he was not expecting to appear there. One moment he had been in the Garden, theorizing about Naomi’s motivations with Joshua and Gabriel. For an archangel, Gabriel was flippant and thought they worried too much, but he was concerned about Naomi’s grab for power. 

_Bro_ , he had said. _I’m a lot older than you. Heaven is just like any other empire. Regimes rise and fall. Castiel killing thousands of angels? We can’t dwell on that. We’ve never dwelt on the past. We’re here for the future. And if Naomi wants to manipulate Castiel? That can’t happen. He needs to stay with that douche-bag he loves so much_.

Gabriel was really no fan of the Winchester brothers, but he agreed that if any humans could seal the gates of Hell, those two could probably manage. He and Castiel were not close and he did not have the same affection for the younger angel, but he saw the wisdom in their plan—Castiel was free thinking and a valuable asset, but fragile. He and Dean Winchester were finally reaching equilibrium and they hoped that Castiel could heal himself and help them.

“Hello Inias.”

Naomi was calm and collected as ever.

“What were you and Joshua discussing?”

Inias steeled himself. “Merely plans for safeguarding Heaven.”

“So this has nothing to do with Gabriel appearing in the Garden?”

Thinking fast, Inias replied, “Gabriel? He was killed—“

“Save your cover story for someone who might believe it.” She stood up from her desk and turned towards the window, gazing at the clouds outside. “But I am not interested in angels who return from the dead. Do you know if Castiel and Dean Winchester have made progress?”

“It’s been one day since I last reported to you. They have not made any additional progress.”

“I always forget how much slower time in Heaven is than Earth.” She paused, and turned towards him. “Are they working with the Prophet?”

“Not at the moment.”

“Well, is the Prophet protected?”

“In a manner of speaking. He’s staying with—“

“They are not guarding the Prophet?”

“Not them personally, no.”

“So what are they doing?”

“Well… they’re on a ghost hunt—“

“A ghost hunt?”

“Well, yes, they’re looking for leads on the other half of the tablet, but decided to take on the ghost hunt while still—“

Naomi held up a hand, cutting off his train of thought. She sat down. She folded her hands and gave him a level gaze. “Are they currently having intercourse?”

“Currently? I don’t—“

“Do not lie. I knew that Castiel was completely wrapped up in his ridiculous love affair with that human, but I had no idea that he would allow it to derail his entire mission!”

Inias frowned. “Mission?”

“He only has to accomplish one thing, but he lets his lust for that human cloud his judgment!”

“They are working towards—“

“Enough. I will deal with this situation. Go back to Joshua and your planning. Castiel will be dealt with soon enough.”

And then Inias was back in the Garden. He looked to Joshua and Gabriel.

“Whatever plans we have to protect Castiel, we need to enact them now.”

\--------------------

The night was going just how Dean liked it—king-size bed with magic fingers, Chinese food from a local dive and one of those Clint Eastwood movies with the monkey. Clyde. (Not that he’d ever tell anyone he knew the monkey’s name.) He’d gotten Cas relaxed—made him strip off unnecessary clothing until he was down to the slacks with no belt, riding low on his hips and revealing the navy blue boxer briefs underneath. Dean had been wearing boxers and, after getting Cas to try all the food, got him to lean against the headboard and settle in to watch the movie.

Cas had always been weird about TV. He seemed to like watching, well, anything and was not really discriminating. Action, comedy, chick flicks, porn—Cas wasn’t picky. But, unlike Dean, who’d been watching TV pretty much since birth, Cas only had a few years when he’d been hanging around Dean. Although he did not get humor. Especially cartoons. He just thought they were stupid.

But he seemed to like the Clint Eastwood movie—or as much as Cas liked and comprehended anything on TV.

And now… being balls-deep in his angel was a fantastic end to the evening.

Cas was spread out on the bed underneath him, skin flushed, lips red and kiss-swollen. His hair was wilder than usual and his pupils dilated. 

“Dean,” he moaned, voice lower and rougher than usual. One of Cas’ arms was around his back, nails digging into his skin, skirting the edge between pleasure and pain. Cas other hand traced his cheek, lips and ran through his hair. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured.

“Stop that,” Dean half-groaned, punctuating the order with a hard thrust, hitting Cas’ sweet spot and making the angel moan again.

 _You two deserve each other_.

And why the hell was his brother’s smug statement coming to mind in the middle of sex?

He reached down, running a hand along Cas’ thigh. He shifted Cas’ leg, getting the angel to wrap a leg around his waist. This let him change angles and effective hit Cas’ sweet spot on every thrust. The angel threw his head back on the pillow, mouth forming a moan, but no sound came out. Dean almost smirked—Cas, who had a comment for everything, was rendered speechless.

Their bodies were slick with sweat and, Christ, Dean had been close for so long—he was amazed he lasted this long. But making Cas come apart like this? Yeah, that was worth controlling himself for. Why had they waited so long to do this?

Dean leaned down, latching onto where Cas’ shoulder and neck met. He bit down lightly, sucking a mark into the smooth skin.

Cas lost it at that point, coming untouched and hard between their bodies.

“Oh yeah, baby, that’s it. Come for me.”

“Dean!”

“I have a report on Naomi’s actions.”

“Oh fuck!” Dean scrambled at the unknown voice, pulling out of Cas quickly and rolling to the side of the bed. He grabbed his gun from the nightstand, rolled back and aimed at the unknown voice.

And he was staring at Alfie and Inias.

Cas was staring at him.

Awkward.

Cas threw the blanket, bunched at the end of the bed, over their middles. He then calmly turned towards the other angels—none of them seemed phased by the fact that Dean and Cas were naked and covered in cum. What?

“Naomi?” he asked. “I haven’t seen her in millennia.” 

“She is planning something,” Inias said. “We’re not sure what, but we have intelligence that suggests she will put her master plan into place soon.”

“What is her plan?”

“We are not sure, but be wary of anyone from Heaven.”

“I will expand my protections on myself and the Winchesters. We will be vigilant.”

The other angels disappeared.

Dean slumped against the pillow, loosening his grip on the gun. He glanced over at Cas, whose gaze was distant. “Hey,” he said, tapping Cas’ arm. The angel turned his gaze towards him. “If they can see us at all times, don’t they know it’s a bad time?”

“They are not as familiar with human activities as I am.”

“No shit. You just participate.”

Cas shrugged. “Being with you is quite pleasurable.”

“Glad I can be helpful.”

“Dean, I’ve loved you from the moment I found your soul in Hell.”

“I know.”

A few hours later, all he could think was, _When did I turn into Han Solo_?

\--------------------

“I just don’t get it. Everything points to Naomi making a big power grab and turning Castiel into some sort of example.”

“From our interactions with her, yes. But none of her actions point to that.”

Gabriel gave Joshua a long look.

“Someone is always making a power grab around here. Why do you think I stayed out of all this bullshit for so long?”

Joshua gave him the ghost of a smile. “I can understand.”

“So let me get this straight—Inias thinks she’s planning to kill Castiel after this whole Leviathan mess, but she wants him to help the Winchesters first? Trust me, bro. The Winchesters are royal pains in the ass, and they think having Cas around is great, but they don’t need him to accomplish anything.”

“Now the question is—what is her plan?”

Gabriel frowned. “I wish we knew how to find her.” He paused. “I’m pretty good with the ladies.”

Joshua rolled his eyes. “Somehow, I don’t think she’ll fall prey to your charms.”

“Any news from Daddy?”

“None. Our Father remains silent.”

“You know, I remember her from all the wars. She had a few foxholes that she thought she kept hidden. Who knows? Maybe she’s still using them—thinks anyone who would know forgot about them.”

“It’s possible. Very few from the old regimes are still around.”

Gabriel shrugged. “There’s us, and she probably knows that. But, hey, I’m not complaining.” He grinned. “We get this taken care of and I’m booking a cruise for four months, at least.” He paused. “Okay, I’m off to scour foxholes. Wish me luck.”

Gabriel disappeared from the Garden.

Joshua just shook his head. “Good luck, brother.”

\--------------------

The ghost hunt near Lake Charles had been an easy salt and burn, and with no news on translating their half of the tablet and nothing on the finding Crowley or the other half. So Dean made an executive decision that they were going to the French Quarter. Take a break, re-focus, ignore Sam’s massive bitchface, and hopefully avoid the damn cockblocking angels who seemed to show up at the worst times. And Cas, meanwhile, refused to go back to Heaven and find any answers. Not that he really blamed him and, hell, call him selfish, but he was just glad to have Cas alive and around, and know that he didn’t actually leave him behind in Purgatory.

Like he said. Blanket apology all around. He was tired of holding grudges. (Unless Sam was involved. Then he could hold a grudge forever. Family was different.)

Their hotel was cheap, under the radar and had a lot of rooms on the interior with no windows. So other than the freaky effect of not knowing when it was daylight, he just hoped they were buried deep enough that the angels would take longer to find them.

Or something.

Sam was in a room on another floor, the opposite end from theirs. The walls were so thin, he could hear the football game someone had cranked up and the British couple arguing about some waitress at Café du Monde. 

He really didn’t care about any of that.

Really, with the track record lately, he’d have been smart to just suggest a movie and turning in early. Or, hell, even taking Cas for a late night stroll around the French Quarter. Stay away from anything that involved getting naked and getting busy. Other angels liked to interrupt them. And he was tired of being caught in his birthday suit around a bunch of angels who didn’t get it. (Cas was starting to.) And the fact that said angels seemed to think Cas was in danger, but weren’t saying anything? Well, what the hell was he supposed to do with that?

At any rate… there was obviously something wrong with him, because he’d gotten Cas naked and on his stomach on the bed. And if he picked up some massage oil at one of the specialty shops around here? Well, temptation. He was only human. Or whatever. He’d managed to convince Cas that massages were definitely something to indulge in (and his angel had the sense not to mention all the ridiculous interruptions before.)

So between the massage oil and the lube, Cas was raring to go, hips moving involuntarily against the mattress.

And this was going to be—

“Castiel!”

Interrupted by angels.

He turned around on the bed.

“What the hell do you two want?” he yelled.

Alfie, at least, at the decency to look slightly embarrassed. Inias, on the other hand, didn’t look like he gave a crap. Dean rolled his eyes, not even really upset about being naked in front of them. He just hoped they were enjoying the view.

And the pair _obviously_ hadn’t decided who was going to talk, because they both started talking at once. Dean frowned. He’d never known angels to be so… un-businesslike. 

“Naomi wants—“

“Tablets and she’s going—“

“Kill you!”

“Don’t know what her plan—“

“Her allies are—“

“Gabriel said—“

“And I was telling Joshua—“

“The whole thing is out of control and we’re—“

“Forces in Heaven—“

“Rebuild and we can’t—“

“EVERYBODY SHUT-UP!”

Dean blinked. So far, he’d only comprehended about every other word coming out of their mouths and Cas hadn’t even sat up, just looked over his shoulder with a weird half-frown on his face. Seemed like the logical reaction to this… overreaction… from their neighborhood-friendly. And now his only reaction to the newcomer was—

“Gabriel. Huh.” He gave Cas’ shoulder a friendly shove. “Looks like you’re not the only one God decided to resurrect.”

“Apparently not.”

Cas rolled over and sat up, frowning at the angels.

Needless to say, the mood was, once again, gone.

Gabriel, on the other hand, just looked bemused and was sucking on a lollipop. He was in fine form.

“You guys want to know what’s going on?”

Inias and Alfie were silenced and giving Gabriel their full attention.

So _someone_ could shut them up.

Gabriel gave Dean a once-over and then a lascivious wink. “Looking good, Dean-o.”

“Shut-up.”

“Always great to see you.” Gabriel cleared his throat and did a random big arms gesture. “And now, as for what’s going on, Naomi will explain that.”

And Naomi appeared.

Oh well. Three angels (four including Cas) had seen the show. What was one more? At least Cas enjoyed it.

“I believe some explanation is in order,” she started.

Dean just lowered himself onto the bed, settling next to Cas. “You think?” he muttered.

She just gave him the emotionless angel version of a glare.

“I’ve been in contact with Castiel’s grace since Joshua and Inias’ forces successfully rescued him from Purgatory.” Her gaze swept to Castiel. “You are a complicated angel, and, despite your flaws, you have many followers, many angels who adore you.” She glanced back around the room. “But despite the angels that love him, Castiel has only ever wanted to remain with Dean Winchester since raising him from perdition. At this point, he is useless to Heaven and our efforts to rebuild. He wants to remain on Earth with Dean Winchester, and then join him in Heaven, where he can make sure he is protected.”

The long silence that followed was heavy with tension.

Dean turned to Cas. “When the fuck were you going to tell me that?”

“How could I tell you that? You’ve spent all your time pushing me away!”

“Hello? We’re here! Naked! Having sex! I’m listening!”

“You only hear what you want to?”

“Excuse me? What does _that_ mean?”

“You are arrogant, stubborn—“

“I’m not stubborn!”

Distantly, Dean heard Gabriel shoo away all the other angels. “They need to have make-up sex,” he said by way of explanation.

“Shut-up Gabriel!”

Fin.


End file.
